What is your secret?
by Star Mirage
Summary: One night Harry found a strange room, hidden behind the 'Sands of Time' picture. Why it is so unusual? And what a silent phantom of Malfoy is doing in the room, while his living prototype inhabits Hogwarts? Harry/Draco story.
1. Ch1: A picture

**_What is your secret?_**

_Disclaimer__: The whole universe of Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. _

_Dedication__: To you my dear friend, Unfading, because you were the one who asked me to write a HP fanfiction _

**Part 1: The picture**

He was unhappy…

There were many reasons for that, but he had no desire to analyze them properly, because they have been the same for the whole year already…

The constant squabbles and quarrels between Ron and Hermione, followed with no less frequent snogging amid of the Gryffindor Common Room – that could drive anyone mad…

There were those unceasing provocations of Slytherins. Especially from Malfoy. As if that flaxen-haired Slytherin could not live without any caustic words and stinging remarks about Harry. It seemed that, though it had not become as necessary as air for him, Malfoy nevertheless regarded that verbal fight as his favorite daily routine...

"Well, well, well. Whom do we have here? Isn't that the one and only all-mighty Potty?" - The voice without any doubts belonged to the same Slytherin whose pointy face just a moment ago flashed across Harry's mind.

"Sod off, Malfoy."

The blond in question folded his hands over chest and smirked arrogantly. "Oh, our little Saviour is not so eloquent today. Maybe he just tired after another oh-so-long interview about himself. Say, Potter, in which newspaper do we have to look for that new article about you? Will there be another 'I cry, remembering mummy' revelations?"

"SHUT UP, Malfoy!" Harry boiled with anger.

But Malfoy, supported by Crabbe and Goyle, just smirked. "Or else what? Will you call those friends of yours, so they could fight for you?"

"At least I have the real friends, not sycophants like yourself," Harry turned around and rushed away. It always was like that. Harry did not ever have any energy left to argufy with the Slytherin. 'Petty ferret!'

There also were Snape's continuous quibbles... For the whole duration of Harry's stay at Hogwarts, there was no single Potion lesson at which Snape would not turn his live-coals-eyes towards Harry. As a rule, that burning glare soon followed with an equally burning, scathing comment...

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing here at the time like this?" Speak about devil and here it is. "The school rules prescribe all students to be in their bedrooms after curfew. As I see you think yourself to be beyond those rules." As always, Snape's voice was low and malicious. "Twenty points from Gryffindor. Now you have exactly five minutes to get from my sight, and nowhere but to your room. Am I clear, Mr. Potter?"

Fuming, Harry stared at his Potion teacher, but could not do anything, because any remarks would have cost more points from Gryffindor. So he settled on just saying aloud - "Yes, professor."

Feeling Snape's inimical stare on his back, Harry hastened toward the Gryffindor tower. 'The spiteful grease sadist!'

Theoretically, it is possible to get used to anything. Even to the maltreatment. Still, somehow Harry felt unhappy.

The weather also had not been pleasing. There was a cold and gloomy rain outside. For several days already, the whole England and Wales had been sinking in the steady autumn downpours. Moreover, the weather forecast bode not good…

Harry wandered the corridors aimlessly. Forward. It was unimportant where to. The main thing was not to stop. That because as soon as he stopped, depression and despondency overwhelmed him like a big tidal wave. Sneaking up inconspicuously, at first. Then overpowering completely…

Suddenly Harry understood that for a long time already he had been standing and staring at some desert landscape painted on a big canvas. Fathomless blue sky above the boundless sand dunes. In the distance, every now and then the undulating hazes over fervent sands produced some fuzzy mirages. At one moment there was a lake, at another - a grove or mountains... As if an invisible artist could not decide what to paint there, on the horizon.

'It is interesting, is there a room hidden behind the picture, or that picture is hanging here for no particular reason?'

The moment Harry thought so, the scenery before his eyes became wavy. It was similar to ripples in the water after a stone dropped into it... The ripples dispersed, revealing a door hidden behind (or maybe "in"?) the picture.

Without thinking twice, Harry took the door-handle. Wariness never was a Gryffindor distinguishing feature. However, curiosity was among the main three ones, along with bravery and foolhardiness.

The door opened with a low creak. From over there, a gentle music reached Harry's ears. Enchanting, fascinating sounds, bearing peace and calmness...

Intrigued, Harry took a step forward. With the same low creak, the door closed up after him. In a split second, it disappeared without trace, dissolving into Sands of Time painted on the picture...

**TBC.**

Are you intrigued? Do you really want to know what happened to Harry? Then please review! Your comments feed my inspiration!

© Star Mirage


	2. Ch2: A room behind the painting

_**What is your secret?**_

_Standard disclaimer applied._

_A/N: My hearty thanks to those people who reviewed my story. Here is the next part._

**Part ****2: A room behind the painting**

Music came from a small harp. By the way, it was a very familiar instrument. With a harp like that one, professor Quirrell lulled the vigilance of three-headed dog that guarded a way to the Philosopher's Stone. Fluffy, a very large three-headed hellhound, was owned by Hagrid. Only Hagrid could take a very rare and dangerous creature as a pet and give it a name like that...

Harry sighed with nostalgia. That happened during Harry's first year in Hogwarts, but felt as if eternity passed since then. However, the sweet melody performed by the harp had not changed at all. It was as beautiful and pacifying as several years ago.

Harry felt as his depression disappeared gradually. It become lighter and brighter on his heart. Smiling, Harry breathed with relief and straightened his shoulders. Yes, as though a mountain fell from his shoulders. With a burst of energy, Harry looked round with keen interest.

The room, where he ended up, was wide enough, almost the same size as the Gryffindor's common room. There was the height-vaulted ceiling that gave the appearance of a cave to the room. Along of perimeter of the room there were several magic torches. As far as Harry knew (of course from Hermione's frequent lectures), those torches never emitted smoke and never burned out. Their light was enough to make out the whole room in a general way.

As Harry could discern, there were no windows in the room. Still, the air was fresh, and even had a hint of flowers scent in it. Interesting.

The magic harp has been standing on top of a small pedestal in the middle of the room.

On the right, by the wall, there was a big fireplace with a flame dancing merrily within it; its mantelpiece covered with some recondite tools. In Harry's opinion, those tools were similar to a mixture of alchemical with astronomical ones. Still, none of them Harry saw and even more so used before.

There were two black-leather armchairs by the fireplace. Very cozy looking armchairs, exactly the type Harry liked the most. It was one of his favorite pleasures (beside quidditch of course!), during rainy days to climb with his legs into some comfortable chair and stare at the flame burning in a fireplace. Beside the armchairs, Harry saw a small coffee table of red wood with the carved legs. He decided that he liked this place.

"Wait till I show this room to Ron and Hermione! I'm sure they'll like it also," Harry easily could picture himself with his best friends, doing their homework or playing the snapping chess on that table. However... With the same ease, he could imagine one of usual quarrels between Ron and Hermione or, even worse, their snogging in one of the chairs. No, Harry didn't want to mar his impression of this peaceful place.

"For now, this room will be my own secret", - he said to himself. He felt as light breeze touched his face as if the room itself approved his decision. As if this place really was destined for him only.

Harry smiled and proceeded with examination of the room.

Oh the left... Harry blinked with surprise. To the left he saw two... hmm... mirrors? Pools? Portals? ... In general, it was something round-shaped and shimmering in the dim light of torches. Each 'mirror' was at least two meters in diameter. Perfectly round, set in massive stone frames with odd runes and symbols carved around the edge, both "mirrors" had been standing vertically opposite each other. Their surface was rippling like water under a light breeze. Harry thought idly that those round objects resembled two pensieves to him. Just very big ones.

A silvery sheet of 'water' from one 'mirror pool' (Harry decided on that name) streamed into other 'pool' without any splash. Moreover, that 'water' not even touched the stone floor.

It was a magic... In spite of the fact that Harry had been studying in Hogwarts for several years already and had been dealing with magic everyday, he never ceased to admire its every new manifestation. Besides, this one was very captivating.

Harry warily came closer to the magic pools and looked into one of them.

At first, it reflected a thin boy with a dark tousled hair. The famous green eyes, hidden behind the round spectacle frames, were looking with a slight fear; but the shine inside of those pools gave out an undisguised curiosity.

Suddenly, the surface of the pool became hazy, covered with a milk-white mist. In several moments, a small 'window' appeared in the mist. There, as it were on a muggle television emerged some blurry images...

He saw himself, flying a broom for the first time. He was a small and naive first-year then. That was the time, when he understood that he likes to fly very much. Harry smiled.

Next, he saw Hermione, reading a very large book by the candle light. Probably something like _'Hogwarts__A history'. _"How typical of her to go reading at every opportunity."

Another image was Ron, hunting garden gnomes together with other Weasley. There were so many red-haired people at the same time in a small garden! "So funny!"

There were many other visions. Like Dumbledore at the Hoheydukes Sweetshop, buying a rather big paper bag of different sweets...

Snape stealthily reading a muggle poetry book... "Eh?"

Professor Trelawney with hair-rollers all over her head... "Brr... Horrible."

Malfoy secretly trying on some muggle clothes... "Hmm... Not bad. Especially those tight black jeans."

A girl, doing a blowjob to a guy in Slytherin robes. Harry was quite taken aback. "Ginny?!"

'Merlin! What's that? How she could...?' Harry could not finish the thought, because he was disgusted with the idea of the girl he liked as a sister doing that... that repulsive thing to some Slytherin.

Harry made a wry face, and in an emotional turmoil moved to another pool.

At first, its surface also became misty, and when there a small clear area appeared, Harry wondered what visions he would see there.

**TBC.**

_A/N:__Sorry that the parts are so small; English is not my native language, but I do my best to write as intelligibly as I can. __Review, please!_

© Star Mirage


	3. Ch3: Unexpected visitor

_**What is your secret?**_

_Standard disclaimer applied._

_A/N: Thank you, people, for reading and reviewing my story!  
__My special tanks to __Unfading__ for her amazing work of being my Muse (and beta-reader as a combine job) :-)  
__Here is the new chapter._

**Part 3: Unexpected visitor**

The overfilled bladder forced Ron to wake up in the middle of the night. A quick casting of '_Tempus_' spell confirmed his suspicion. It was 3:45 of night.

'Or morning,' the boy smiled. 'It depends on how to think about those night hours.'

Ron yawned sleepily, and scratching his stomach, trudged to the toilet. After finishing his mission, the redhead returned to the bedroom. He cast a glance at his best friend's bed and frowned. The bed reminded in the same untouched state as it was when Ron went to his bed several hours ago. It proved that Harry had not returned yet.

Ron and his roommates were well acquainted with Harry's habit to wander the Hogwarts' corridors after curfew. It started after some very nasty nightmares that tormented the Boy-Who-Lived. At first, Harry refused to sleep at all. Really, ever Ron knew that was not the best way to solve the problem. A half-hourly-non-stop lection from Hermione (Ron shuddered with horror, 'Scary!'), and Harry gladly switched to look for another solution.

For some time Harry was able to get rid of the nightmares with a help of _'Sleeping Draught_'. However, it turned out that the sleeping-draught was very addictive; therefore, Harry had to give up the potion. Now he just physically exhausting himself with walking along the castle's corridors, hoping to collapse unconscious after returning to his bedroom, and dream no dreams.

However, Harry usually returned before than that night.

'Harry, mate, where did you disappear to?' Ron thought worriedly. He sat cross-legged on his bed, prepared to wait for return of his best-friend.

x-O-x-O-x

With an interest, Harry peered through the 'window' that appeared on surface of the mysterious pool. The visions in it were less clear and understandable than the ones from the other pool. Harry got closer, trying to discern the flitting images…

He could distinguish only several things. Like a party at the Gryffindor's tower… Or Hermione's throwing a book at Ron, but accidentally hitting Ginny who was just passing by… Or himself, standing in a scantily lit broom cupboard, embracing some blond girl from behind and kissing her neck…

Suddenly, a spurt of water that had been connecting both mirror pools swung slightly and brushed against the unsuspecting Harry Potter, catching him of guard. Harry flinched, surprised, then swore in a low voice.

The surface of the mystic pool once again got hazy; and after the mist disappeared, the water became rippling and boiling. That was unique sight: the vertically standing boiling wall of water…

Way too soon, the surface of the pool settled down, and became smooth like a lake of mercury. With a keen interest, Harry stared at his own reflection in the mirror-like plane.

Flashing face, shining eyes, curious expression…

Harry could not deny himself being very interested about that last, specific vision about him and some blond girl. He knew that that particular incident never had happened, because Harry has not dated anyone with a short blond hair yet...

'Is she from my future?' he mused. 'Cool!'

So lost in his thought, Harry didn't see as a hand emerged from the pool, closely followed by its owner. Surprised, Harry abruptly moved back, stumbled over his own legs and plopped down onto his bottom.

"Malfoy?!"

The Slytherin, like legendary Aphrodite that emerged from the sea, was majestic and beaut... ('No!' Harry stroked out the unfinished thought.) Still... That was an interesting appearance.

Meantime, the said blonde-haired boy looked at his hands, stirred his fingers, glanced over himself and then, out of the blue, smiled.

"Eh?" That was all that Harry could utter, sitting on the floor.

Malfoy approached Harry, squatted down beside him and began to observe the Gryffindor closely. To Harry's huge perplexity and displeasure, Malfoy kept on smiling.

'What's wrong with him?' Harry wondered. 'Have somebody hexed him or he just drank a wrong potion?'

Really, the strange behaviour of Malfoy was disturbing. That is why as soon as Harry came to his senses he hastily rose to his feet, and pushed his enemy aside.

"Get away from me, Malfoy!" he exclaimed angrily.

However… Harry's hand that would had been meeting with an obstacle in the form of the blonde's chest, to utter shock of dark-haired boy, passed through the Slytherin's body, as if Malfoy was made of thin air. Harry's eyes opened wide from shock. He once again lost his balance and fell heavily onto the floor.

It looked like the phantom of Malfoy was as surprised with his own disembodied state as Potter was. The blonde guy frowned, examined himself, then turned to the Gryffindor and said something. Harry saw Malfoy's lips moving, but no single sound came aloud. Malfoy frowned even more. He made another attempt to say at least a word. But the result was the same – the blond reminded mute.

For the second time that night Harry rose to his feet after dumb sitting on the floor. He hastily stepped aside from the strange phantom.

"Malfoy! Have you died or something?" Harry asked warily. "If you are a ghost, than that means that you are dead, aren't you?"

To tell the true, it was very unnerving to think that a guy whom you knew for several years already quite unexpectedly passed away. Even if that guy for the whole time had been a complete jerk as regards to you and your friends. Even so, Harry never wished Malfoy's death. And so, Harry gave preference to another plausible reason of his nemesis' strange condition.

"No! That must be some king of spell that allows you to be a spirit temporarily, right, Malfoy? Or a potion? That is it, isn't it?!"

For several moments, the phantom had been lost in his thoughts. Then he just shrugged his shoulders with confusion in a very clear gesture 'Don't know'.

Harry sighed. "What do we have to do with you, Malfoy?"

Really, Harry had not a slightest idea of what to do with the phantom. But it seamed that Malfoy had something in his mind. He smiled and beckoned the Gryffindor to follow him. Harry looked sceptically at his enemy, but nevertheless, followed his incorporeal guide.

**TBC.**

_A/N: __Let me know what you think about it. Review, please!_

© Star Mirage


	4. Ch4: Nature of the phantom

**_What is your secret?_ **

_Disclaimer__: Standard. _

_Dedication__: For you, D (aka Unfading)! And thank you for your help!  
Also thanks, people, for reading and your reviews. They make me happy :)_

**Part 4: Nature of ****the phantom**

When Harry returned to his bedroom, all his roommates were long ago asleep. Even Ron was snoring loudly, being ridiculously collapsed sideways on top of his blanket.

Harry smiled. He undressed silently, and then slipped into his own bed. There were only a few hours left till dawn. However, Harry was lying in his bed, wide-awake, and analyzing the night's events.

Indeed, there were many things to think about. The mere meeting with phantom of his foe was worth quite a lot!

Almost all questions that Harry had about the night's events were neither about the magic room and its destination nor continual music of magic harp; and even not about magic mirror-pools, but a nature of the Malfoy-phantom. That was because Harry always trusted to his own feelings, and he was more than sure that to the touch the phantom of his enemy was as immaterial like any usual ghost supposed to be.

Still, that night visitor could do things that, in Harry's opinion, the usual ghosts could not do. In particular, the phantom of that blond Slytherin could manipulate items. He could lift them, move and perform many other operations… The simple example was their chess game.

However, let's be consecutive.

Harry was more than confused and intrigued when the phantom led him away from the magic pools. Only their journey turned out to be very short. The phantom of Malfoy brought him to the fireplace and gestured Harry to take one of the armchairs.

"Eh?" that's all that Harry could utter, but he obediently settled himself in a cozy arm-chair.

The phantom smiled to Harry, confusing the last ever more. Then Malfoy took out a lid from the coffee table, and pulled out a wizard chess set hidden there… After returning the lid into its original place, Malfoy put the chessboard on the table and began to set out the chessmen.

Harry's jaw dropped with astonishment. It turned out that the phantom could pick up and move things!

'Is he really a ghost?' Yet, Harry still remembered his filling when his hand passed through the body of pseudo-Malfoy. That was terrible sensation!

'Well,' Harry thought, 'It's easy for me to call him a phantom. So that will do.'

Against all the odds, the Malfoy-phantom could play wizard chess and he did that rather well. Since the phantom could not direct his chessmen verbally, he thought out an interesting alternative. First, he touched a chess piece with his forefinger, then a square where that piece would move. And unlike Harry's chessmen, the Malfoy's ones obeyed him without any word. They said just "Yes, master". While Harry's chessmen always tried to say a disparaging comment before moving.

After making his next move, Malfoy-phantom raised his eyebrows provokingly, showing his snow-white teeth in mischievous smile.

It was interesting, why the phantom could not speak. Although, as Harry had to admit, the said muteness made the phantom's company much more enjoyable than the one of his prototype. After all the real Draco Malfoy would not sit even two minutes beside Harry and say nothing about Harry's parents, friends or Harry himself.

Distracted, Harry looked around the room. Never-burning-out torches were shining evenly, making the room very comfortable… The flickering fluid from one mirror pool was quietly flowing into another one… The magic harp was softly playing a new, placatory melody… Cheerful flames were crackling in the fireplace… Teasing sparkling in the eyes of Malfoy, who was seating in the opposite armchair.

Harry raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to the chessboard. After studying the situation on the chessboard, Harry stared at Malfoy with suspicious indignation.

"You are cheating!"

"Who? Me?" The phantom blinked in false astonishment. His mute indignation would look more natural if it were not to his archly shining eyes.

"Yes, you!" Harry said accusatorily. "Your queen was standing here, and my knight was there!"

Malfoy snorted in indignation, then, unable to control himself anymore, he leaned back and giggled soundlessly.

Harry also snorted, and then laughed, joining to the phantom in his merriment.

x–X–x–X–x

Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood. He absent-mindedly picked at his breakfast, absolutely disregarding a morning turmoil that as usual prevailed at the Great Hall. Draco's bad mood and lack of appetite were caused by utterly unbelievable nightmare that pursued him the whole last night.

The blond Slytherin flinched involuntarily.

'Yes, that cannot be anything else but nightmare,' he thought, looking at the initiator of his depression mood. That one, as usual, was sitting at the Gryffindors' table, animatedly talking with his sidekicks.

That night in his dream Draco found himself in a strange unknown room. It was the scantily lit, yet cozy room. And everything would be ok if there was no Potter in there. To be alone with the Gryffindor was not a part of Draco's ten favorite ways of spending time. Nor even it was a part of his hundred favorite ones.

Still, that was not all. Draco dreamed that he was a ghost. Moreover, he was a mute ghost… But the worst part of the dream was that Draco was in love with Potter.

Draco's face turned greenish, thinking of how his subconsciousness could play such a mean trick on him.

'Me and Potter?! No way!' he thought angrily. 'That really is nightmare of nightmares!'

He never had been interested in boys! Yes, he liked to look sexy, but that was for girls' sake only! Then where that stupid dream came from?

'Only one thing was good in that dream, that there was nothing happening between me and Potter.'

With difficulty suppressing a qualm at a thought what else his devilish subconsciousness could shove into his nightmare, Draco moved his plate with now destroyed food aside. 'It's good that there was nothing between us. We just played wizard chess. Quite an innocent occupation. Still that absolutely wild desire to do something pleasant to Potter, to embrace him or to do something equally bizarre… Disgusting!! That is just sickening!'

Feeling a new wave of nausea, Draco darted out of Slytherins' table and rushed out of the Great Hall. Fuming with indignation, he did not notice that pair of confused green eyes observed his hasty retreat…

**TBC**

_A/N: Thank you for reading. Review, please! _

© Star Mirage


	5. Ch5: Secret for two

_**What is your secret?**_

**_by Star Mirage_**

_Disclaimer__: Standard. The heroes are not mine. I wish they were…_

_Dedication__: For you, D… _

**Part ****5: Secret for two**

"It's here." Harry pointed at a desert landscape, painted on the big canvas. "Here exactly I have found that mysterious room. After Malfoy's phantom vanished inside one of the liquid mirrors and I was about to go back to our dormitory, I specially marked the room on the Marauder Map. Here, look!"

He indicated a small cross on the map; a small sign was floating beside his, Hermione's and Ron's names.

"And how do we enter?" As always, Hermione was the first one to approach to a problem from practical point of view. She fetched her wand and began to scrutinize the picture, intending to find some clues.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, don't know. I just stood here, looking at the painting, and then a door appeared out of nowhere."

x–X–x–X–x

They had been studying the painting for more than two hours. But no spell from Hermione's wide arsenal could help her to find a door. The tricks, inherited from Fred and George, who in their time found the entrance to Hogwarts' kitchen, could not help Ron either. He touched, caressed, tickled, and knocked at the canvas, still in vain.

Harry's hypothesis that the room could be found in the way The Room of Requirement had been, didn't justify his hopes. However hard he tried to visualize the magic room, pacing the corridor back and forth, the door never revealed itself.

A desert landscape as if teased them, remaining lifeless and cheerless. Even the mirages on the painted canvas emerged extremely infrequent.

"No luck," Ron summarized. He absently scratched his head and added, "Harry, I think that if the picture doesn't want to let us in, then the room you spoke about is meant only for you."

Harry and Hermione stared at their friend, their eyes wide open, surprised with Ron's oh-so-rare wise thought.

"Seems like that", Hermione said. She absent-mindedly twiddled her wand, which appeared to be useless in their attempts to get into the secret room. None of Hermione's spell could reveal the door and the girl was more than deeply vexed.

All three Gryffindors dejectedly sighed and went back to their tower.

x–X–x–X–x

It was raining outside. But in this secret room, separated from the whole world by the thick walls of the castle, it was warm and cozy.

Harry dropped his mantle on the floor, remaining in a dark-green sweater and his old jeans, and took off his shoes. He comfortably sprawled out in an arm-chair, stretching his feet closer to the fire. After a long, tiresome day, it was very good to relax at the fireplace. Calm, gentle music of the harp, in spite of its endlessness, absolutely did not bother him.

"I wish I had a bottle of butterbeer…" The boy sighed.

Still, it was amazing that the whole secret place belonged to him only! Well… Harry looked around... Correction – to both of them. Just as last time, Мalfoy came out off a mirror surface of magic pool. The blond phantom smiled and also made his way toward the fireplace. Today Мalfoy was clothed in some stylish grey trousers and dark-grey polo-neck sweater. Like a personification of all Harry's wishes, Мalfoy carried a bottle of butterbeer in his hands. The phantom walked up to the Gryffindor, handed him a bottle and with a smile sprawled in the second arm-chair. Throwing feet over an armrest, he threw off his expensive shoes and socks and then turned toward the fire.

Surprised Harry lifted his eyebrows. "Wow! A ghost who likes to luxuriate at the fire! It is incredible!"

Meantime, Мalfoy closed his eyes with a pleasure and began to sway his bare feet. The pale slender feet, swinging back and forth in a mere meter from Harry, hypnotized the Gryffindor like a magic pendulum, and Harry found himself looking over the ghost. Long legs clothed in narrow trousers… slender body… hands with well-groomed thin fingers… elegant neck… shining platinum hairs… aristocratic, slightly arrogant features… and mischievous laughing eyes, looking at Harry with repressed amusement…

Harry blinked and, realizing that he was caught staring, turned red. Embarrassed, he dropped his eyes.  
'Oops'. Then he remembered about the bottle of beer in his hands and said, "Eh… hm... thank you… for the beer."

The phantom, smiling, nodded "Not at all", and continued to dangle his feet in the air, while a very confused Harry, trying not to look at the blond, fixed his eyes upon a fire in the fire-place, listening to the music of harp and drinking his beer.

x–X–x–X–x

_Draco was panic-stricken. _

_His heart madly __thumped in his chest, sweat inundated his eyes, and the blond strands stuck to his wet face… But Draco cared less about his appearance. He was fleeing, non-stop, not thinking, just running. Fear drove him ahead as a scared animal._

_Straight… to the left… to the end… to the right… dead end… backward… A Labyrinth as if laughed at his vain attempts to get out. Every passage-way of __the Labyrinth was no different from the previous one. However, it was impossible to get out from the magic Labyrinth in muggle way, for example, sticking your left hand to a wall and on any road fork turning to the left. No, this Labyrinth was more perfidious; as soon as you turn away, a passage-way behind you would disappear or a new crossroad would appear in its place._

_Draco could hear nothing but his own labored breath and sound of blood, hammering in his temples in unnaturally loud way. The blond was running at top speed, gasping, stumbling, but didn't dare to stop. That is because he knew: they were there, they chased him. He almost could feel a horrific look of those non-human, entirely red eyes on his back. As if in a mockery at the scared Slytherin, a loud laughter of their sinister owner sounded above the Labyrinth._

_Draco __sobbed and…_

… woke up.

With a madly pounding heart, sticky with sweat, the blond sat on the bed and, gasping, tried to catch his breath. It took him several minutes to recover. Night air of dungeon quickly cooled his heated body and Draco lay down again. Wrapped up in a warm green blanket, the boy remembered his nightmare.

That was the third night already that he dreamt about the Labyrinth, whose enormous grey walls horrified the Slytherinto no end. The Labyrinth without the beginning and the end. The magic maze where unknown threat lied in wait behind every turn. The third night Draco tried to get out of the Labyrinth, but each time without result.

With their icy fingers, hopelessness and despair gripped the blonde's mind and heart. That was because he felt that each time a danger became closer.

In comparison with this nightmarish Labyrinth, all his previous dreams about him as a phantom that was enamored of Potter, seemed like a small nuisance.

Quivering with cold, Draco buried himself deeper under the blanket.

x–X–x–X–x

"Am I wrong or Мalfoy really looks somehow not like himself?" the famous Boy-Who-Lived said to his sidekicks and adjusted his famous eyeglasses. "Maybe he is ill?"

Harry had been studying the blond Slytherin for ten minutes already, absolutely forgetting about his own breakfast. Indeed, Мalfoy looked rather unhealthy. Much paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes, the blond absently dug up in his plate. For the whole morning he had not touched his meal yet.

Ron just snorted, eating greedily an extra sausage.

"Ha, suits him well," he said. "Let that sly snake die, that's all I care."

"Ron! Don't speak with your mouth full! That's gross!" To reinforce her argument, Hermione slapped him on the back of his head. Ron choked, frowned, but proceeded with eating – silently.

Harry glanced at his redhead friend in reproach. Earlier he would share Ron's opinion about Malfoy's condition. But now… Now he was extremely curious and somewhat worried about the blond. 'What happened to Malfoy?' he wondered.

Still silently pondering over different versions, he watched as the blond Slytherin rose to his feet and left the Great Hall.

**TBC**

_A/N: My sincere gratitude to my dearest friend Unfading, who did a proofreading of my writing__. Without your help it would be more unreadable :-)  
__And I'm very thankful to all people who did review my work! I appreciate that deeply!_

© Star Mirage


	6. Ch6: Maybe there is a hope

_**What is your secret?**_

_Disclaimer__: Harry Potter & his magic world belong to J.K Rowling._

_Dedication__: To you my dear friend, D! You are the best beta in the world! Thanks to you this chapter is readable now __:)_

**Part ****6. Maybe There is a Hope**

That evening in Gryffindor tower a party raged full force. The party was held on the occasion of a stunning victory of Gryffindor over Ravenclaw in the first quidditch plays. That year Ravenclaw quidditch team was strong enough, most likely because of their new beaters, who gave Harry a lot of troubles during the game. Still, Gryffindor scored the victory, and a spectacular victory it was. And as usual, a leading role in it belonged to Harry Potter.

Now, for that reason he could not pass through the Gryffindor Common Room without someone tapping on his shoulder, loudly manifesting their admiration with his marvelous seeker's skills.

Harry was not ecstatic about that. His shoulders, his back, and even his buttocks ached from the continual congratulatory slapping. Moreover, in his ears there was a constant hum from the endless flow of praises falling on him from every side.

Harry kept on smiling to his pals, while thinking of how to escape unnoticed from all those people. To run away; desirably to the room hidden behind the picture with sands. Nobody would find him there! Well, nobody except of Malfoy-phantom. But it was unlikely that the blonde would congratulate him with a Gryffindor victory. So, for Harry, there would be no need to worry about his ears, shoulders and other parts of his body.

"Harry, you were gorgeous!"

Harry gave a start, when Ginny Weasley hung on his neck. Trying to unhook the girl's hands from himself, he mumbled:

"Eh... Ginny. Thank you."

"You were simply amazing on that soooo big broomstick of yours!"

Harry frowned, not quite understanding. Was his Firebolt that big? He had some doubts about that. A broom like any other. Yes, it was an advanced, professional-level flying broom, but still of standard size. Otherwise he would not have been allowed to play for his team, because the size of a broomstick in quidditch was strictly regulated. Therefore Harry decided to consider Ginny's words as a compliment; though the one a rather doubtful quality. That's why Harry answered hesitatingly:

"Eh… Thanks."

Meanwhile, it didn't seem that Ginny wanted to be unhooked from the poor guy's neck. Quite an opposite, the girl tried to snuggle up to Harry ever closer. As a result, the guy felt himself more and more awkwardly.

"Come with me, Harry," she whispered in his ear, burning the side of his face with her hot breath. "Come with me, and I'll show you how the true heroes should be congratulated."

Harry flinched in shock. 'Did she really lick my ear just now?'

Even more desperately trying to remove Ginny from himself, Harry looked around in panic, seeking out Ron. From his previous experience, Ron was the only one who was able to tear off his sister from Harry.

'Ron!' Harry thought in despair. 'Damn, where you are when you are so needed?'

Unfortunately, there was no Ron anywhere. When all of a sudden:

"Ron! You are an idiot!"

It was only thanks to his seeker's instincts that Harry could dodge a blow in time. And as a result, the book flying at his direction landed right at Ginny's face.

"Oh!" The redhead's hands instantly let Harry out of their captivity and he, taking an opportunity, quickly put several steps between himself and the girl.

"Ginny! Sorry! I didn't intend to hit you!" The next moment, a very guilty Hermione came running to the redhead victim. "Sorry! I aimed at Ron, but missed! Sorry!"

Hermione quickly checked her boyfriend's younger sister and, founding a big bruise blooming at the freckled face, added, "We have to get to my room at once! I'll give you an anti-bruising fast-healing ointment. The treatment has to be done as fast as possible until the bruise become incurable! Let's go, quickly!"

Ginny threw a longing look at Harry, but still followed Hermione without a word.

Harry breathed with relief and, taking advantage of the bustle, quickly slipped out of the Common Room.

x-O-x-O-x

Despite the fact that Draco had been taking the Dreamless Potion, the nightmares had not stopped.

_So here he was__ now, strolling along the gloomy passageways of Labyrinth. The suspicious rustle, squeak, hissing and screaming of unknown monsters promised no good. Draco felt that he grow cold with terror. But he knew that staying in place was yet more dangerous. And that was why he continued his march in search of exit._

_In the Labyrinth it was becoming colder and colder. Draco could even saw his own breath, coming from his mouths as a small cloud. A blond trembled, wrapping himself in his school mantle, but that didn't help him at all. That was because the cold affected him not only from outside; Draco had been freezing from inside. For the first time in his life, the Slytherin understood what 'a soul-freezing cold' felt like._

_Gasping__ and stumbling, Draco begun to run. Onward… to the right… damn..! dead-end... backward… to the left… straight to the end... Draco tried his best not to look back but put all his strength into running as fast as he could. However, as before, he felt that they were somewhere there. Those terrifying red eyes. They were searching for him. _

"_Draco, here!"_

_Taken by surprise, the Slytherin could not __stop in time to avoid hitting the man who had seized his hand just a moment before. 'Where did he appear from in this frigging Labyrinth?' Draco did not know. All he knew that there was Harry Potter, standing before him, in his shapeless clothes that were so enormous as if taken off from a troll; with his black hair always sticking out in different directions and glasses sliding down his nose. _

"_Come here__, Draco," repeated Potter. "I'll help you to get out." _

_Firmly holding Draco by the hand, the Gryffindor pulled him in unknown passageway__, that appeared as if from nowhere. Keeping his wand ready at hand, Potter confidently strode onward._

_Dumbfounded, __Draco followed Potter, unable to say a word. The blond consoled himself with a thought:_

'_Probably I feel this mental stupor because of supercooling.'_

_Still__, the warmth of Potter's hand was much more pleasant than the chilling loneliness of that terrible Labyrinth. Therefore Draco decided to trust Potter, and allowed him to lead them both out._

x-O-x-O-x

Unlike all previous times, the phantom-Мalfoy already had been inside the Secret room when Harry arrived there. The phantom was sitting comfortably in an arm-chair, holding a magazine in his hands. Stretching out his barefoot feet closer to the fire, the blond looked absolutely -

'… cute,' decided Harry, blushing.

The phantom looked up from his reading and, seeing Harry, friendly smiled.

"Hi!" Harry greeted him back. "I was passing by… so... hm… I thought why not to come in…"

Seeing Draco's ironically raised eyebrow, Harry understood that he was babbling. And so he turned red even more.

Trying to regain control, Harry drew a deep breath and decided to tell the truth.

"Well, there is a party on the occasion of our Quidditch victory, up in our tower. And I became very tired of it. That is because all people there are unbearable. They tapped on my shoulders and on my back too often, so now my whole body aches. Even my ass aches." Harry frowned and thoughtfully added, "I think that was Seamus's deed. He was the one who slapped me on my ass. Several times, if I remember correctly. What a friend he is…"

Now both of Draco's eyebrows were raised, and ironical smirk began to play on his lips. The Slytherin boy theatrically craned his neck and looked at Harry's bottom very meaningfully.

"Stop that!" Harry exclaimed with embarrassment.

The blond showed his teeth in a shining smile. Still unused to those open smiles on Malfoy's lips, Harry was taken aback. After all, earlier he saw nothing but mocking and disdainful smirks on that Slytherin's face. Now, that smile was open, friendly and very –

'…cute.' It was the second time for the evening that Harry's subconsciousness named the blond that way. As a result Harry blushed once again. 'Oh, Merlin, it seems that red will soon be the permanent color of my skin', thought Harry, feeling more embarrassed than before. So he wisely decided to change the topic.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

The phantom turned his magazine, showing it to Harry. After seeing the cover, Harry almost fell on his bottom. 'Hot magic boys' – was the title of that garish thing. And what's more, there was a pretty boy, dressed in very tight trousers and an almost transparent white shirt, winking from the cover. But the greatest shock for Harry was the fact that the winking boy from the cover happened to be the one and only Draco Malfoy.

**TBC.**

Thank you for reading! I hope you like this story. Would you like to know what will happen in the next chapter? Review please!

© Star Mirage


	7. Ch7: In the real life

_**What is your secret?**_

**_By Star Mirage_**

_Disclaimer__: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.  
__Dedication__: To you, my dear friend, Unfading (aka D)! Ever if this fiction turned to be a slash one, I hope you will not kill me for that : ) And thank you for your priceless help with my clumsy grammar.  
Also I dedicate this chapter to all those readers who sent me their reviews. I was very happy to receive them. _

**Part ****7. In the real life **

Sundays were the most favourite time for Harry. There was no need to hurry up to the lessons. You could spend your time as you wish, and not as the time-table prescribed you to do. And the most wonderful thing about Sundays was that you could sleep as mush as you wish.

Since last night Harry returned to the dormitory only at down, he permitted himself to sleep longer. By the time he came down to the Great Hall, most students had already finished their breakfast and dispersed to their own business. Even Hermione and Ron finished their meal, and went away. According to Hermione, she went to the library_ 'to do homework'_.

'Only Hermione can think about homework ever since the Sunday's morning,' Harry thought with a slight surprise. But when Ron said that he '_has to write a letter to his mother and brothers_' and dashed after Hermione, Harry's smile become wry.

'Ha! Homework… letter… I bet that they are in some empty classroom, snogging.'

His best friends knew that Harry felt uneasy about their open display of feelings, and that was why they tried not to demonstrate those feelings in his presence. Well, although they didn't stop their kissing sessions, at least they stopped doing that in front of him.

Therefore Harry, being left to his breakfast in blessing loneliness, with pleasure savoured a toast with strawberry jam.

It was good that professor Spout had in her greenhouses some normal plants like strawberry, and not only the magic ones, which move, yell or bite you every time you pass by them. A strawberry jam quickly gained popularity among students of Hogwarts. And not only among of younger population of the castle. Harry cast a look at the High Table. A few jars of jam were collected around of professor Dumbledore's plate, depriving other professors of a possibility to taste the dessert. But Harry thought that not all professors felt aggrieved at that fact. He shifted his look to professor Snape. It was rumoured that the Slytherin dean could not stand any sweet stuff.

'I'm sure that he even tea drinks with salt and pepper,' Harry thought maliciously. 'And that's why he is so wicked and sour.'

'Here you are, Harry. Good morning!'

Harry almost choked with his toast, startled as his best friend's little sister flopped down onto the bench beside him.

'Hi, Ginny,' he replied. Fortunately for the girl, and certainly thanks to Hermione's help, there were no traces of yesterday's events on Ginny's face. Her round face still was generously covered with freckles, but the enormous 'black eye' that appeared on Ginny's face last night as a result of her close 'acquaintance' with Hermione's book, vanished away.

While Harry was pondering how tactfully to ask her about in what way Hermione removed that bruise, the girl took the unfinished toast from Harry's hands and, slowly licking off a jam, smiled to the dumbfound boy.

'Yesterday, we were cut off at the most interesting place,' Ginny purred, putting her free hand on Harry's knee. 'Let's go to Hogsmeade today. Only you and me, and no one else. We'll drink some butterbeer…' Ginny's hand mover several inches higher along the boy's leg, and the girl's voice became deep and sultry, '…and will do something interesting.'

Harry, red with embarrassment, hastily jumped out from the table, almost tipping over his unfinished tea.

'Sorry, Ginny,' he babbled. 'I am busy… Eh… I have… Eh… I have a meeting with professor Dumbledore today… And after that I have a lesson with professor Snape… And then I promised to Hermione that we'll do homework together… So I'll be busy the whole day. Excuse me.'

In panic, Harry cowardly left the Great Hall. Whatever you may say, but to fight dragons was much easier than to deal with girls, especially with such importunate and bothersome as Ginny.

xOxOx

Panting, Harry fell down on his bed. He was so abashed with Ginny's behaviour that he ran nonstop from the very Great Hall to his dormitory. Everything that he said to the girl about his busy schedule was a lie. There was neither meeting with professor Dumbledore nor professor Snape's lesson in Harry's plans today.

After catching his breath and calming down, Harry remembered about the magazine that he took away from the Malfoy-phantom last night. Harry looked around and found that only Seamus was present in the room. The Irishman was lying on his bed and was reading (judging from non-moving pictures) some muggle newspaper. Knowing Seamus' curious character, Harry did not take the risk to open his magazine in the roommate's presence. Therefore, Harry furtively took out the magazine from under his pillow and pushed it into his pocket.

Earlier, on his way to the Gryffindor Tower, Harry noticed that there was no rain outside. Since that was the first sunny day after the sequence of exhausting rains, a decision came really quickly. Slipping on a mantle, Harry decided to go for a walk to the lake. There, all alone, he would be able to study thoroughly this very interesting magazine.

'From cover to cover', promised Harry to himself, silently leaving the room.

xOxOx

'Draco, darling, would you like that egg?'

'No, Pansy.'

'Then maybe that salad?'

'No.'

'May be you want that sausage?'

'No.'

'Then some porridge?'

'Shut up, Pansy. I'm not hungry.'

Draco understood that he was running out of patience. A little longer and he would curse that stupid bitch. Her nonstop excursion into all dishes seen on the table didn't add him an appetite at all. Quite the contrary, that small piece of toast that he was nibbling stuck in his throat.

Unable to get a good sleep because of his frequent nightmares, and therefore irritated and angry, Draco dreamed about one thing only - to be left alone. Unfortunately, Pansy was not going to let him be.

'Draco, darling, you are so moody, ever since the morning.' She prattled, leaning over his side. 'You have to eat something to keep your beauty unfading.'

Draco rolled his eyes.

'What I need for my beauty, Pancy, is to be left alone. That, and a good long sleep.'

'A sleep?' The Slytherin girl raised her eyebrows. 'What were you doing last night, darling, if you could not have your beauty sleep?'

Draco waited till Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, and then answered.

'I was fucking some bloke in the Astronomical Tower. All night long, actually. See you later, dear.

Seeing as scandalized Pansy spilled the juice all over herself, Draco smiled with satisfaction and left the Great Hall.

xOxOx

Harry was sitting near the lake, taking shelter from the eddy wind behind a pile of big rocks. Those rocks hid him not only from the wind, but from anybody's view, whoever would look from the castle towards the lake. Comfortably sitting on a stone heated by sun, Harry opened the magazine.

As before, it evoked very confused feelings in him.

_+Flashback+_

The phantom turned the magazine, showing it to Harry. There, on the cover, was a winking boy, dressed in the very tight trousers and an almost transparent shirt. That boy was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Harry's eyes went wide. 'Is that you?' he could utter almost breathlessly.

The phantom nodded proudly.

'Really?'

The phantom nodded again.

'You're kidding!' Harry was shocked. He sat in unoccupied armchair, still staring at the periodical.

The phantom smirked slyly. He swung the magazine to himself, turned over a few pages and, pleased with himself, again showed the magazine to the Gryffindor. What Harry saw there had deprived him of speech for several minutes. With goggling eyes, he slipped down from the armchair and, pointing his finger at the new photo in the magazine, could only dumbly open and close his mouth.

There, over the whole page his own figure stood out. His own nude figure that was. Harry-on-the-photo had been taking a shower, soaping his hairs and happily singing something. With his eyes closed, he was unaware that someone took the picture of him.

Crawling closer, Harry could see that, fortunately, only his top half had been clearly visible on the photo, and below the waist, his body was covered with puff of steam. Still that was no help. Scandalized, Harry could only mumble, poking with his finger in the magazine.

'Merlin! Who and when managed to take that photo?' he uttered at last. Fury helped him to collect his thoughts, little by little cleaning his mind from the shocked state. 'If those were brothers Creevey, I'll kill them with my own hands!'

Infuriated, Harry leaped to his feet and began to pace before the fireplace back and forth. Unconsciously he took out his magic wand and started to swing it around, unaware that it began to sparkle as a Christmas sparkler.

Satisfied, the phantom leaned on the back of his armchair and with a smile watched the Gryffindore's _'I'm very mad'_ performance.

'I'll kill those brothers Creevey!' muttered Harry under his breath. 'I'll kill them, I swear! No, at first, I'll curse them till the next Sunday, and after that I'll give them to professor Spout's carnivorous plants. Yes! But… But what if that photo was taken by somebody else? How should I find them? Anyway, I'll kill that bastard, whoever it was who did that to me!'

Suddenly the Gryffindor abruptly stopped, struck with a new thought. His eyes become wide with horror. 'What if that photo is not the only one? If there are other ones with naked me on them… On which I'm totally naked… Whaaaa!! What I have to do?'

Harry angrily turned to the phantom. After seeing the annoying magazine – the source of his bad mood - in Malfoy's hands, he snatched it away.

'I forbid you to look at this!' He shouted at the phantom.

The blonde phantom pouted, indignant with the Gryffindor. He folded his arms over his chest, and in an emphatic manner turned away. Although that didn't prevent him from stealthily watching as the Gryffindor put the periodical into his pocket.

_+End of Flashback+_

xOxOx

Some motion, caught by Harry's peripheral sight, distracted him from reading of magazine. He raised his head to see what that was.

Wrapped in a warm autumn cloak, none other than Draco Malfoy was approaching the lake. Leisurely, the blond walked up to the edge of water, stood there a few minutes, looking intently into cold grey of the lake, then sighed heavily, and made his way to the nearest trees. He looked around, absolutely unaware about his nemesis, hidden not so far behind some big rocks. Noticing nobody, Draco took out his magic wand.

With interest, Harry watched what Malfoy would do next. But the latter just pronounced some spell, which apparently dried out soil and grass around the chosen place, because after his manipulation with the magic wand, the Slytherin not-so-elegantly flopped down on now dry grass.

Harry snorted ironically. 'Does Malfoy have a bad day today, if he behaves so… hm… ungracefully?' Intrigued, Harry ever forgot about the magazine that he had been reading several minutes ago. Now, carefully peeking out from behind the stones, he watched the notorious Slytherin.

In the meantime, the blond settled himself into the shadow of a big tree that was growing close to the water.

Malfoy indeed was in a bad mood, because after adjusting his cloak and stretching out his legs, he just was sitting there for some time, sulking and unhappily looking before himself. Then, obviously thinking about nothing cheerful, Malfoy, without getting up, picked up a few pebbles lying nearby and began to toss them into water. Pretty soon he became bored with that occupation, because the blond sighed heavily again, then tightly wrapped himself in the warm cloak. After that he closed his eyes with apparent intention to have a nap.

In disbelief, Harry watched as the Slytherin's breath became slow and deep.

'Did he really fall asleep?' he thought, staring as a light breeze played with Malfoy's platinum hairs. A snob look disappeared from the Slytherin's face, replaced by a peaceful expression. Harry thought that at time like this the blond looked more like a normal guy than a blockhead with a superiority complex, whom, in Harry's opinion, Malfoy usually was. To see his Hogwart's rival so defenseless was very unusual. But if you think about that, it was the first time when he saw Malfoy asleep.

Puzzled, Harry scratched the nose.

That peacefully sleeping boy bore a strong resemblance to the phantom from the Secret room. He had the same aura of calmness and conciliation… The same little smile that often had been lighting up the phantom's face, and that just now touched the Мalfoy's lips. The same childish dissatisfaction which the phantom demonstrated, when Harry took the magazine from him, and which also flashed across the sleeping blonde's face…

Whatever you may say, but it was much more pleasant to look at the sleeping Slytherin than at the awake one. As if falling asleep, Malfoy threw off the false mask he had been wearing, and revealed his true nature. He looked peaceful, open to emotions, defenseless, and very much attractive...

Harry hemmed ironically, surprised where his own thoughts led him to. With ears burning with embarrassment, he turned back to his magazine. Seeing the playfully winking Slytherin in his translucent shirt on the cover, Harry blushed yet more. He hastily turned over pages of magazine in search of the article that he had been reading before Malfoy's arrival. Finding it, Harry sighed in relief. At least it would possibly occupy his mind with something other than Malfoy.

Still, ever after that thought, Harry glanced at the blond... And froze.

From the lake a thick tentacle was sliding towards the sleeping guy.

'A giant squid,' Harry understood with horror.

Blindly groping for a road, the tentacle quickly found its prey. Twining round the blonde's ankle, the squid abruptly pulled the unsuspecting boy into the lake. A second - and Malfoy disappeared under water.

Without thinking twice about his own actions, Harry dashed after the monster and its prey. While running, he snatched out his magic wand and jumped into the lake.

**TBC****.**

Thank you for reading! Please, don't kill me for leaving this chapter hanging at that very tense point. I just want you to take a long breath, because the story would become more intensive and intricate. Well, and more "slash-romantic". (Sorry, D!) :)

Review, please!

© Star Mirage


	8. Ch8: Truce… probably

_**What is your secret?**__**  
by Star Mirage**_

_Disclaimer__: Harry Potter & everything related to his magic world belong to J.K Rowling.  
__Dedication__: To you, dear Unfading! Thank you very much for your corrections and suggestions. Because of them my writing becomes more readable (hopefully so).  
Also my great thanks to all readers who sent their review and who put this story to their alert list!__I hope you'll like this chapter too._

**Part 8****. Truce… probably**

Water turned out to be cold. Utterly cold. Its freezing coldness instantly penetrated Harry to the very bones, leaving him breathless. The wet and heavy clothes restrained his every motion like some iron fetters. Moreover, there were no gillyweeds at hand and Harry had to rely on his own ability to hold his breath as long as possible.

Harry cursed his own laziness: after the well-known Triwizard Tournament he didn't even bother to find any spells just for the cases like this. Promising himself to correct this inadvertence after his return to the castle, Harry took a long breath and dove in.

The lake was not very deep, only several dozens of feet, however the gloomy sky that happened to be that morning gave very scanty illumination under water. Harry looked round in the murky water, and was just in time to see an enormous dark shadow slipping farther and farther away from him. Knowing that there were no other creatures of that size except for the Giant Squid in the lake, the Gryffindor shot _'Stupefy'_ at the disappearing figure.

Harry held his breath, praying, that he had not missed. After several very long seconds, the Squid let its trophy go. The underwater monster, acknowledging the attacking boy as a prepotent opponent, decided to retreat. Meantime, the freed Slytherin began to sink down like a stone. Obviously he was out. Either Мalfoy choked with water or he lost consciousness when the Squid hit him against the water. Although there was a possibility that Harry's spell hit the blond instead of the lake monster.

Without wasting time, Harry rushed after Мalfoy.

Blood hammered in his temples and black spots danced before his eyes. Harry understood that air was ending in his lungs, and that he needed to come to the surface and take a new deep breath. Still, Harry stubbornly rushed after his sinking enemy. 'Just a bit more…'

Finally, catching the slipping Мalfoy by a sleeve of his cloak, Harry turned round and rushed back, toward the surface. Resurfacing within a cloud of splashes, Harry tried to catch his breath. Cold air knifed his lungs; however, to Harry it seemed to be the most wonderful feeling in the world, only because he could breathe freely again.

He cast a look at the Slytherin whom he had in tow. That one still was unconscious. Panting for breath, Harry dragged the body of the blond ashore and placed him under the same tree, where Мalfoy had been sitting before. Absolutely wet from top to toe, he sat next to the blond, wondering what to do next.

The first thing that came to his mind were some pictures from a TV-show about saving drowning people that he saw the last summer when the Dursleys were visiting aunt Marge, and Harry was able to watch TV to his heart's content. Usually Dursleys forbade him even to come into the room where their TV-set was, let alone to watch it. Anyway, what he just recollected from the show was a method called 'mouth-to-mouth ventilation'...

Harry looked at Мalfoy. A picture of himself using that method on the blond flashed before his mental sight. And blushing so hard that it seemed that steam will go out his ears, Harry began to shake his head.

"No! Never! I'll never do that!"

Fortunately, his look fell upon his own magic wand lying not so far from them and Harry breathed out with relief, recalling that he was a wizard, and therefore there were another ways to bring Malfoy to his senses.

"_Renervate!"_

At first nothing was happening. Then Malfoy stirred, turned over to his side and began to cough. After spitting out water which he had swallowed during his recent adventure, Мalfoy slowly lifted his head up and was surprised to find a completely wet Potter sitting next to himself.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked him.

Мalfoy silently nodded. He had not recovered from the stress yet, and was extremely confused.

The blond looked around in search of his magic wand and, finding it, hastily cast a drying spell on himself. In a second, his clothes became dry, as well as his shoes and hair. Although, dry from top to toe, he still was chattering from cold.

Harry followed the Slytherin's example and also dried himself with the same spell.

Several minutes both young wizards sat in silence, which Malfoy broke as soon as he completely came to his senses.

"Don't you dare to tell about this to anyone, Potter," he hissed in a low voice.

"Sure!" agreed Harry pretty quickly. "Because my friends will kill me if they learn that I've saved you instead of letting you to drown yourself."

The blond shot him an angry look, but said nothing. Then, to Harry's surprise, Malfoy blushed and whispered: "Mm… thank you, Potter… for saving me."

Shocked, Harry could just utter: "Huh?"

The Slytherin become even redder. "Oh, shut up, Potter! As if I'll ever repeat myself!" he exclaimed angrily, then got up and made his way toward the castle.

Harry, still astonished that Malfoy actually thanked him, followed the blond with his eyes till the slender figure disappeared from his view. Only then Harry woke up from his stupor. He smiled, picked up his magazine and also went to the castle.

xOxOx

Lucius Malfoy was writing a letter to his sole heir.

"My dear son,

I hope you are sound and kicking..."

Lucius made a wry face and hastily erased the last line with his magic feather.

Lately, much to Lucius' own annoyance, such un-aristocratic expressions began to appear in his speech. Surely his was influenced by Dark Lord, who in spite of his hatred toward muggles, used their plebeian colloquialism pretty often.

Over the last months the said Dark Lord was staying in Malfoy Manor, obviously behaving as if he owned the place. He went wherever he wanted, poking his almost-non-existent-nose to everything that happened in the manor, and did everything his dark nature wanted. He even terrorized the Malfoy's house-elves more than that had been done by all Мalfoys together for the last decade... And what he did to those poor peacocks that Lucius liked so much...!

Anyway, because of the continuous presence of this 'Great and Mighty Dark Wizard', Lucius' aristocratic nature was under permanent stress. Naturally, he didn't show his dissatisfaction with his boss' actions; neither with a word nor gesture. Everyone knew that an open criticism in the Dark Lord's address was fraught with serious consequences that were incompatible with life. Still, to his own great displeasure, Lucius managed to pick up those idiotic muggle's expressions from his Dark Lord.

Lucius Malfoy sighed and returned to the letter he was writing.

Looking at the almost blank parchment, he recalled what induced him to do that.

The reason was very simple: the 'Great and Mighty' just became bored with all those faces that were surrounded him. His exact words were:

"I want to see yet another pretty face among my most loyal supporters, except of yours, my dear Lucius. I hate to see those ugly mugs of Avery, Crabbe and Goyle. So, be so kind to bring your son so that he could serve me as zealously as you do."

That summer Dark Lord met the Lucius' son for the first time. Maturing, the Malfoy-junior became quite handsome. And that was not a surprise: with Lucius and Narcissa as his parents, their son could not be just ordinary looking.

That day, bumping into the Malfoy heir in one of the manor's hallways, Dark Lord stopped in front of Draco and lifted the boy's face with one of his skinny pale hands.

"You are very beautiful, boy," he said to the stunned youth.

Lucius saw that Draco's eyes became wide, but still, his son just slightly bowed and answered, "Thank you, my Lord."

Malfoy senior smiled with pride – his son did not disgrace his family name even after being called '_beautiful'_. In Lucius' opinion only women could be called 'beautiful'. Men, and the Malfoy menfolk particularly, were '_handsome'_…

Dark Lord nodded and resumed his walking along the corridor.

Lucius forgot about that small event, but yesterday, two months after the said meeting, Dark Lord announced to Lucius:

"I want your son to take the mark this Halloween. So, would you be so kind as to bring him here by the said time."

Malfoy-senior frowned, staring at the letter to his son. As a matter of fact, Lucius didn't want for Draco to be marked. With hot-tempered and unreasonable boss, like Dark Lord, any mistake could result in harsh punishment, down to the famous 'Avada Kedavra'. Lucius hoped that Malfoy name would go on in prosperity, even after Dark Lord's existence vanished from people's memory. And Draco was the vital element for those plans. But, for the time being, Lucius could not go against his boss' will. He would do as the Dark Lord said. Still, that didn't mean that the famous intriguer – Lucius Malfoy – would give up so easily. He would think something out as to how to save his son.

Sighing, Malfoy-senior reverted to the parchment.

xOxOx

After returning to the castle, Harry found his best friends in Gryffindor Common Room. Ron sprawled about on their favorite sofa beside the fireplace, while Hermione with a book in her hands was sitting cross-legged and leaning against the redhead. To all appearances, their morning plans, namely 'library' and 'letter to the relatives', were fulfilled, and so, waiting for lunch, the pair was spending their time in the Common Room.

Harry looked around and, with a slight displeasure, decided that in such crowded place he also would not be able to read his trophy magazine. He could not stay at the lake and read it there, because it became pretty windy outside. Meanwhile curiosity was eating him alive. While Harry pondered when it would be better to go to the Secret Room - now or after lunch, his redhead best friend yawned and said:

"You are so lucky to have 'that special room' of yours, mate."

Harry raised his eyebrows, surprised that Ron's words mirrored his own thoughts. Meanwhile Ron continued.

"I'm so envious! To have a place where you can do whatever you want and nobody would disturb you… That's fantastic! If only I had a room like that…" The redhead sighed, and then dreamily added. "Well… If I had a room like that, Hermione and me would think something out as for what to do there. Wouldn't we, Hermi?"

Judging by how fast Ron turned red after the words, his thoughts probably were about something indecent.

"Ron, you are a pervert!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, giving him a smack on his head. However, Harry noted to himself, judging from telltale blush that colored her face and her shining eyes, Hermione entirely shared her boyfriend's fantasies.

Harry signed and rolled his eyes. 'Oh. Merlin!' He really didn't want to know what his best friends could do if they had a place like his 'Secret Room'.

xOxOx

"My dear son,

In view of the approaching holiday of Halloween, your mother and I would like to see you at Malfoy Manor. Please make sure to come alone, dressed in a suit that your mother will send you next week…"

Draco frowned. He easily captured the true meaning of his father's words hidden behind the polite orders. And that troubled the boy ever more.

From his father's letter, Draco understood that for Halloween he ought to arrive to the Manor and present himself before their dark and mighty guest. What for? Draco had only one supposition. However, to mar up his perfect skin with the ugly mark wasn't on the Slytherin's want-to-do list.

Contrary to popular belief about Malfoys' dedicated loyalty to the Dark Lord's cause, Draco felt no desire to take that part of the family business and join the ranks of Death Eaters. Dark Lord's cruelty toward his own supporters didn't contribute to the popularization of that group.

Besides, Draco, like most Slytherins, was not brave. Therefore, he considered caution the main survival tactics. In the current war he intended to wait aside till the conflict between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore's supporters was over, and then to join the winner.

However, the letter of his father left him no choice...

Draco could not help remembering his dreams of the Labyrinth. There also was the same sense of hopelessness. The same threat coming from the Dark Lord... and - Draco smirked - salvation brought by Potter.

'It would be nice', he thought, 'if Potter could find a way out for me not only in a dream, but in this situation too. Another thing is that he will not help me.'

That moment, the pictures of the recent incident near the lake flashed in Draco's memory, when Potter saved him ever regardless their mutual animosity. However, Draco's sighed doomily and corrected his previous statement:

"And yet, it is unlikely that he will want to help me."

xOxOx

Harry closed the magazine and looked at its cover. He could not but praise the work of a professional photographer, who took this photo of Malfoy.

The photographer effectively emphasized every notable feature of the youngster: his slender figure, honed by frequent Quiddich practices, his clear pale skin (the one that any girl would die for), his soft looking white-blond hair (to groom which Malfoy must have been spending more than one hour everyday)… Aristocratic, handsome, arrogant - but, at the same time, naughty and seductive.

Absolutely different from that wet and scared boy, whom Harry dragged out of the lake.

"Interesting," he muttered, staring at the dancing flame in the fireplace.

A sound of light steps broke his reverie. Harry glanced back and smiled: the familiar blond phantom was approaching the fireplace. The phantom smiled in return and graciously sat on another armchair.

**TBC.**

**AN:** Thank you for reading. As you can see the scene is prepared for something more romantic. :) And I promise, you'll see that in the next chapter. Review, please!

© Star Mirage


	9. Ch9: Draco

_**What is your secret?**_

_Standard disclaimer applied.__  
A/N: Many thanks to __Unfading__ for her priceless lessons of English grammar :)  
Here is the new chapter. _

**Part 9****: Draco**

Draco was sitting in his favourite armchair, deep in thoughts, and stared at the fire in the fireplace.

At such late hour in the Slytherin Common Room there were a few people only. And those were mainly the senior students.

Draco cast a glance at the Slytherins, present in the room.

Crabbe and Goyle, sitting on the floor, were spreading out their collections of Chocolate Frogs cards. The collections looked enormous. And that was not a surprise, since everyone knew the monstrous appetite of those two boys. They sat side by side and showed their card each other with childish enthusiasm.

Millicent Bulstrode, sitting on the sofa and sharpening her already sharp nails, quietly gossiped about something with Pansy.

Blaise Zabini, half-sitting half-lying at the same sofa as the girls, was reading some magazine, chuckling from time to time, while their roommate – Theodore Nott – with a bottle of butterbeer in his hands (it was unknown where he had managed to procure it), was looking over Blaise's shoulder, wondering what could have made the boy laugh.

Several younger Slytherins were silently finishing their homework at the far corner...

It was peaceful. And in spite of the fact that Slytherins dormitories were located in the Hogwarts dungeons, the Common Room was warm and comfortable.

It was already past eleven. It was the time, when the most people were in their beds, sleeping. However, Draco was not in a hurry to follow their example. Well, to tell the true, he wanted to sleep. Very much so. Still, when he recollected what was waiting for him as soon as he would fall asleep, all thoughts about sleeping flew away.

That was because of the Labyrinth. He dreamed about that damned labyrinth every night. And those nightmares scared him terribly. Seeing them as an ill omen as for what would wait for him during and after the Hallowing, the blond felt how hopeless his position was. The very thought of the coming meeting with their 'honorable' guest sent a shiver down the boy's spine. Therefore Draco was very whacked due to the permanent lack of sleep. Still, he was not in a hurry to go to bed.

"Draco, darling, you look very tired," someone whispered in his ear. "Do you want me to give you a massage?"

Draco winced with displeasure. Pansy. In confirmation to his surmise, Pansy sat on his lap without ceremony and put her arms round his neck. Dispassionate and silent, Draco stared at the girl who shielded a fire he was looking at. Not receiving any response from the blonde, Pansy fidgeted about on his lap and with a conspiratorial whisper added.

"But maybe you want something more interesting?" And she meaningly slid her hand over his check, then neck and down his chest…

Draco rolled his eyes. He calmly pulled Pansy's hand away from his body and gently pushed the girl from his lap.

"I'm not interested, Pansy," he said. "Go get some sleep."

Pansy pouted with annoyance, spun round on her heels and rushed out to the girls' dormitory.

Once again Draco was left to his own thoughts. But not for long. Someone's cautious hand gently lowered itself onto his shoulder.

"Maybe I can help you relax?" another voice whispered in his ear. This time a male voice. The playful hand significantly caressed the blonde's hair and neck.

Draco rolled his eyes once again and said in low voice:

"Blaise. Who said you that if I refused Pansy's offer then I'll accept yours?"

As a proof of his words, he threw Blaise's hand off his shoulder.

"Oh, no luck for me again," sighed Blaise with regret. He stepped aside from Draco's chair but then quickly bent down and gave a smacking kiss on the Slytherin Prince' neck. "But if you change your mind – let me know," he playfully whispered to the blond and quickly rushed off the Common Room.

All Slytherins knew that with the hot temper of their blond leader, a flirting like that could end up with a fight or quarrel.

'It's a pity that Draco doesn't perceive my insinuations seriously. Such a pity,' sighed Blaise, but then brightened. 'But, at least now, I have some material for my erotic fantasies!'

The boy smiled, recalling the stolen kiss. Even if it was on the neck only. But the feeling of warm skin, with gentle scent of expensive cologne and something else, intoxicating and erotic, peculiar exclusively to Draco…

'Oh, he is hot! He is so hot!' Blaise thought to himself almost drooling. The boy quickened his steps, hurrying to the bathroom, where he would abandon himself to his erotic fantasy, starring the blonde roommate.

In the Common Room Draco cast an irritated glance after Blaise and summarized:

"That idiot".

The Common Room became entirely quiet. Draco looked around. All younger Slytherins already disappeared. They must have completed their homework and went to their own dormitories. Millicent, deprived of her interlocutress, finished polishing her nails and also went to her bed…

Only four people stayed in the room: Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott.

Draco frowned, noticing that Nott, almost unblinking, was intently staring at him. The blond felt himself very uncomfortable under that heavy burning gaze. Meanwhile, Nott, still looking at Draco, slowly licked his lips and took a long, deep swallow from the bottle he was drinking from.

Draco began to suspect that it was not a butterbeer in the said bottle, but something stronger. Probably firewhisky. And judging from the unusual behavior of the boy, Nott must have been already pretty drunk.

'For how long he has been watching me?' Draco thought with a frown. 'Maybe he even saw the earlier scene with Pansy and Blaise? Hm, don't tell me that he also wants a piece of me!' Draco pondered over that idea for a second, and then sniffed scornfully. 'Hah! Impossible!' And reassured, Draco stretched and rose from his armchair.

"I'll go for a walk," he said to nobody in particular. Not reporting to his roommates, but just informing them about his plans.

"But isn't it already past curfew?" noted Goyle perplexedly.

Draco just smirked cunningly. "Do you think I'm some stupid Gryffindor or Hufflepuff to be caught by Filch? Hah!"

Both, Crabbe and Goyle, negatively shook their heads.

Draco smirked once again, cast a glance at Nott, already sleeping on the sofa, and left the Common Room. Maybe, a stroll through the castle will distract his thoughts from the Labyrinth and the coming Halloween.

xOxOx

Harry was hardly restraining himself from moaning. It was a pure bliss! He never felt such pleasure before. And those amazing hands on his shoulders… It really was heaven!

With his eyes closed, Harry was sitting in his favorite armchair in the Secret Room; the magazine he was reading before opened and forgotten on his laps. His tired shoulder muscles were burning under skilful hands which were kneading them. Harry opened one eye and turned to see at the person who was giving him a massage. Who would have thought that Draco (Harry decided to call the phantom 'Draco', while his living prototype - just 'Malfoy' to differentiate them), could give such wonderful massage!

The phantom, perching on the elbow-rest of Harry's armchair, smiled at the brunet, and Harry closed his eye once again. He never had been given a massage before. And now, after getting one, he thought that it was the best thing ever, especially after exhausting Quiddich training he had that day. Indeed, Harry felt himself very relaxed, just seating there with his head bowed down and giving Draco's hands a full freedom to reach all sore places of his back and shoulders.

Barely keeping himself from moaning, Harry wondered how this Draco could be so different from Malfoy. Well, they looked absolutely identical. But their behavior was absolutely opposite. While Draco was open and friendly, Malfoy was arrogant, pompous and hostile…

Well, maybe not today. Harry noticed that today Malfoy looked somehow different. Not his usual arrogant and hostile self, but just tired and apathetic. He didn't swear at Harry, when they collided at the corridor that morning, nor he sabotaged Harry's potion at Snape's lesson. He didn't say nor did anything at all to Harry that day ever if there were plenty occasions for him to do so.

There was something wrong with Malfoy. And Harry was really curious to find out what was a reason for that unusual behavior of his nemesis.

Lost in his thoughts and half-drunk with pleasure of massage, Harry didn't ever notice that the phantom's hands left his shoulders and moved to play with his hair. Overfilled with pleasant sensations, Harry was really surprised to feel something wet on his lips. He abruptly opened his eyes and froze, shocked to find Draco's face so close to his own. All he could see were those long eyelashes and pale skin. And all he could feel with his suddenly keen senses were hands on the back of his head and warm lips over his own. Was the phantom… kissing him?

For several seconds Harry had been frozen with astonishment, unable to do anything. His mind was absolutely blank… Then the phantom moved aside a little and smiled at the perplexed boy.

Harry blinked. Once. Twice… And then bolted out of the room.

xOxOx

True to his words, Draco really was able to go unnoticed neither by Filch nor by his cat – Missis Norris. As he walked down the dark corridors of the sleeping castle, with a light of his magic wand as his only companion, he really felt as his uneasiness was disappearing gradually.

After turning round the corner, Draco stopped abruptly. He just blinked, surprised, looking as a door appeared in the middle of a big canvas, and someone rushed out of the door and run away. Fortunately, the person rushed to opposite direction from where Draco stood. Unfortunately, Draco could not discern who that person was. The only thing that he was sure of was that the person was a male.

Draco looked around, and seeing nobody, approached the canvas. It was the usual canvas like any other in the Hogwarts, only a very big-sized one. On the picture, a desert was drawn, where over the endless sand-dunes roared a tireless sand-storm. And in the middle of that sand insanity this door looked pretty unnatural. Still, it was there. Half-open and inviting…

Draco could not resist a temptation. He came closer, opened the door and went through it toward his destiny…

The door silently closed behind the blond.

**TBC.**

_A/N: Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think about it. Review, please!_

© Star Mirage


	10. Ch10: Dreams and Nightmares

**_What is your secret?_**

**_By Star Mirage_**

_Standard disclaimer applied._

_A/N: It's already the 10th part! (And now beta-checked!) Five more parts are left till the grand finale! Please read and review! _

_Dedication: To Rika'sGrayWolf & Unfading. Thank you for reviews! They inspirited me greatly! _

**Part 10: Dreams and Nightmares **

Draco found himself in a fairly large room with stone walls and vaulted ceiling. This room was almost the same in size as his father's studio in their Malfoy Manor. Faint lighting, oddly enough, was not oppressive. On the contrary, it created an impression of comfort. The large fireplace with a burning fire in it, two armchairs, the shelves with tools for alchemical experiments, a red-wood coffee table, similar to the one that they had in Malfoys' manor…

As Draco knew, such tables often were made to have a removing top, and inside there was a niche for storing of various things. His father, for example, inside the similar table usually stored the bottles of his favorite whisky - half-of-century-oldArdmoreand Macallan in Lalique - and the glasses.

Glancing over the room, Draco saw a small magic harp on a pedestal, - "Nothing new," He recorded to himself. "I already have seen the one like that before," - and two big 'liquid' mirrors, standing opposite each other.

"Oh, and this is something new."

He cautiously approached the mentioned objects and stopped a few feet away from them. A jet of water like the umbilical cord connected both 'mirrors' while twisting and purling all the time. It was strange that that liquid torrent hung in the air without touching the floor. Looking closer, Draco realized that the flow cot just connected the objects, the fluid from one 'mirror' was pouring into another.

Intrigued, the blond smiled. "It's interesting."

As Draco knew, no container could be filled endlessly, because sooner or later it will be filled up. Therefore, if all the time the liquid from one 'mirror' poured out and flowed into the other one without overfilling it, so in front of him were not just 'mirrors', but, most likely, portals.

Satisfied with his conclusions, Draco began to examine the frames of portals. Ancient and weird characters neither confirmed nor disproved Draco's speculations. And therefore, he decided to leave more detailed examination of those objects for later.

Draco turned around, now planning to investigate the coffee table. "I wonder, is there anything inside?"

Taking off the table top, the blond sighed in disappointment. Snapping Cards and Magic Chess. Nothing else. And at the moment Draco would not have refused to have something strong. Even a butterbeer would be okay. But whoever was in the room before had not kept any alcohol here.

"'What a pity!"

Draco sighed and sat down in one of the armchairs. Well, at least here he could relax. The blond stretched his legs and began to make himself comfortable in the chair, when his attention was drawn to some object lying on the floor, almost completely hidden under the other armchair.

Curious, Draco quickly stood up, picked up the object, which turned out to be a magazine, and returned to his seat. Probably the guy that was here earlier had dropped it in a hurry.

"Hm, I wonder, why that boy was in such hurry?" Draco thought. "Maybe he recalled what hour it was and that it's high time to sleep? Well, doesn't matter."

Draco twirled the magazine and, surprised, raised his eyebrows. There, on the cover, was his own picture!

"Oh, I didn't know that they already have it published!" After all, he was photographed for the magazine just a few days ago. "They are fast."

With a pride, Draco stared admiringly at his own photo.

It was Pansy's idea to send his profile to that periodical. The magazine was read mostly by girls, so Draco had nothing against being called the most beautiful guy of the month by them.

"Although..." Draco frowned, biting his lip. "This time the reader was a guy. After all, I saw that the one who ran out of the room was a male."

Then the blond, being his usual narcissistic self, smirked.

"Hah! I'm so handsome that even boys would buy this periodical to have my photo!"

Draco began to leaf through the magazine, checking the articles and pictures. After turning the next page and seeing the picture that took the whole page, he stopped, astonished.

"Potter? Naked Potter?"

After reading the inscription under the photo, which confirmed that it indeed was the famous boy-who-lived, Draco couldn't control himself. He burst out laughing.

"Oh, Merlin! That Potter… The bare-assed hero! Oh, my! It's hilarious!"

Wiping tears after the laughing, Draco finally calmed down. He leaned on the back of his armchair and began to scrutinize thoroughly the picture of his rival.

"Well, well, well. Who would have thought that under all those horrific oversized clothes Potter hides such muscled body? Hm... Not bad. Not bad..."

x-O-x-O-x

'It's all Potter's fault!" Draco decided, glancing at the said Gryffindor. To his surprise, Potter was starring at him, but after meeting Draco's eyes, the brunet realized he was caught, blushed and lowered his gaze.

"Something wrong with Potter," thought Draco, but immediately cast that idea away as unimportant. It was bad enough that Potter had already occupied all his thoughts that morning. Even now, at breakfast, Draco could not get rid of them.

Blame that stupid photo of Potter that he saw in the magazine yesterday! It was all because of that nude, sexy image of Potter, he had that disturbing erotic dream last night!

Draco froze, realizing, that just now he called Potter sexy…

"How terrible!" he thought and in despair began to bump his forehead on the table. "I don't wanna think about it! I don't wanna think about it!" he repeated again and again, as a mantra.

Lifting his head, Draco caught Potter's surprised stare. The brunet was sitting at the Gryffindor table, funnily frozen with half-eaten toast in his mouth, and with wide eyes goggling at Draco.

Looking at the object of his irritation, Draco could not stand it anymore. He rose from the table and quickly left the Great Hall.

x-O-x-O-x

To watch Malfoy had never been so interesting.

Harry froze with a piece of toast in his mouth, forgetting about everything and with wide eyes looking as the aforesaid blond was bumping his head on the table. Repeatedly.

Such unusual behavior of the Slytherin surprised and puzzled not only Harry. Almost everyone present in the Great Hall turned towards Malfoy. Although someone, on the contrary, found that strange behavior of the blond amusing.

"Oh, look, Malfoy has finally lost his wits!" said Ron, continuing to stuff himself with his favourite food. "I always said that he is a crazy nutcase."

"Don't speak with your mouth full!" As usual, Hermione, a supporter of good table manners, knocked the red-haired boy on the head.

Harry cast a glance at his best friends, then again turned to look at Malfoy. The latter, oddly enough, with a frown was looking straight at Harry. For a moment their eyes met. Then, unexpectedly, the yesterday's kiss flashed in Harry's mind. He blushed and lowered his eyes...

x-O-x-O-x

Inhaling the familiar scent of medicines and potions, Harry thought that it was very unusual to be in the infirmary, but not as a patient.

For all time of Harry's staying in Hogwarts, there was none of the years when he had not to spend some time here in one of these beds, being injured during Quiddich or during his famous adventures...

Although, in Harry's opinion, the most painful was the case, when he was in his second year. That time Professor Lockhart foolishly removed all bones from Harry's arm, and the boy had to spend a night in the infirmary, growing the new bone with Skelebones potion. A very painful experience!

Now, sitting beside a bed, Harry was glad that he was not the one to be a patient of Madame Pomfrey. Harry looked at the boy sleeping in the nearest bed, and whom he delivered to the Hospital Wing.

"What is wrong with him, Madam Pomfrey?"

The mediwitch just finished her diagnostic spells. She cast a look at the Gryffindor boy and shook her head.

"Anemia, due to lack of sleep, I think."

Harry frowned. Why Malfoy would not sleep as usual people do? Does he also have nightmares? Or was there something else that troubled the Slytherin?

Anyway, it was good that he followed Malfoy from the Great Hall. Harry tried not to think over the fact that what he was doing was a usual stalking. For him, it was just very interesting to find out what was happening with the blond, why he was behaving so strange. Maybe the Slytherin just was up to something malicious against Gryffindors?

However that may be, he secretly sneaked after Malfoy, when the blond stormed out the Great Hall during the breakfast. And so it happened that only he saw how Malfoy, heading to his dormitory, suddenly stopped, swayed and collapsed unconscious.

Being a Gryffindor, and the hero that could not ditch the other in trouble, Harry managed to deliver the blond to the Hospital Wing. And now curiosity was keeping him at the sleeping boy's bed.

"Mister Potter, would you keep an eye at my patient, please, while I'll go get some potions for him?"

Harry nodded. He really didn't have anything better to do. His best friends, Ron and Hermione, would not look for him since they already were used to his sudden disappearances. Besides, that would leave them more time for themselves. And their snogging…

Madam Pomfrey left to her store room, and Harry looked around. There was no one in the Hospital Wing except from him and Malfoy.

Well, that time of the year there would be not so many patients in the infirmary. That was because the weather, through rainy, still hadn't caused any flu epidemic. There were no cursed people since the younger students didn't learn the dangerous curses yet, while the upperclassmen knew many other ways for jokes or vengeance. Also, since it was a mid-game season for Quiddich, there were no injured players in the Hospital Wing. However that may be, ever if there were any patients that Madam Pomfrey had in her care, they had left the infirmary before Harry's arrival.

Now, Harry and the blond Slytherin were alone in the big room. He once again looked at Malfoy. The latter became pretty restless in his sleep. It looked like he had a nightmare.

While Harry hesitated over whether to wake the Slytherin or not, Malfoy began to mumble something is his sleep.

"…don't want it…"

"Eh?" Harry frowned, while the blond moaned again.

"Don't wanna be marked… please…"

"He really has a nightmare." Harry stretched his arm to the boy, going to wake him up, when the latter added.

"… Potter… Help me..."

Harry froze with his jaw dropped and his arm close to Malfoy's shoulder, but not touching it. Harry's mind was full with one thought only:

"What's happening?"

**TBC.**

_A/N: Review, please!_

_AAN (another author's note ^_^) : Thank you, dear Unfading, for your priceless help with beta-reading this part too! I understood my mistakes (verb tenses, prepositions and once again tenses) and I promise to work at self-improvement! _

© Star Mirage


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